10 comments/ 407239 views/ 15 favorites One Time Only By: ryancolter45 Jessica worked through her stretch routine in the living room as normal, it didn't matter whether I was there or not. Or perhaps it did, maybe that's precisely why she was there. I was ostensibly putting away groceries in the kitchen with a wide open display of her exhibition a mere twenty feet away. First came the floor exercises. She tucked one of her long slender legs under and reached out past her running shoes. Her loose cut off top dropped forward showing daylight all the way through, past her taut young peach size breasts. Next came the forward lunges with her eyes square on me, so I filled the produce bin of the fridge. When I looked back, she was facing the other way for stand up alternating toe touches. Her solid butt through the thin jogging shorts was enough, but her top flopped to catch on the bottom of her breasts, nipples, and eventually all the way to her chin. I continued to rattle bags and wasn't looking when she stood back up. "I'm going out for a long run. Sure you don't want to join me again?" I looked around to see her straining on her tiptoes reaching and grabbing the trim on the top of the door jamb leading into the kitchen. The last time she executed this maneuver she had been wearing a very thin and tight silk undershirt that molded around her breasts and amazingly erect nipples. This time, her breasts were hidden, but I couldn't help but stare at the protruding of her ribs to the long tiny waistline. "My ankle still needs a few more days, but then I'd be glad to join you." She took a deep breath, pausing to give me a long kiss on the cheek, skipped out the screen door, and started her run. I watched her for a hundred yards until she turned towards the Johnson's. Yes. My heart started racing with the knowledge of what was about to happen. I wish I could have seen it. I knew her displays were all intentional, now. At first, she had encouraged her mom with me, saying that I was nice and the cutest of all. Then, when we had become very serious and I had moved in, Jessica's treatment of me changed. The marriage engagement was the final straw. The house that had felt like hers would have to be shared with me. My stamp was all over the house and land. Her mom was never an obstacle to anything she wanted. I was. At first, I didn't realize her plan. She was baiting me to hit her or rape her. In the beginning, she picked fights and stood right in my face yelling and insulting me. Lately though, she had quit the arguments and started paying me special attention. I was home by 3:00 most days, working the early shift as I did, a few hours before her mother. Jessica used to avoid me, but now she was almost always there when I got home in a broad array of skimpy outfits: bikini tops and cutoffs, thin crop tops, unbuttoned shirts tied low with a mini skirt. It was summer and hot, so at first I only enjoyed the show and didn't think much of it until I noticed that she usually changed before her mother got home. Then she started sunning topless by the pool regularly. Twice she crossed between the shower and her room talking on the phone and one hand drying her naked body. And she was asking my opinion and engaging me in conversation, alternating between looking me right in the eyes and turning her head away while posing in some full body stretch, allowing me to look her over "undetected". Yes, I know what she was doing now – tempting me to pounce on her. I figured she probably wouldn't put up much of a fight. Maybe she would even encourage me on verbally a few times and then bust me, claiming I seduced her or even raped her. It would be better now that she was legal age, but not by much. It wasn't easy to refuse the offering of her body. The consequences were very clear to me though, so I let the innocent stripper charade continue. Then a month ago, she started being affectionate; pecks on the cheek and quick squeeze hugs. The first few were executed around her mother. Jill looked so pleased that her daughter was warming up to me finally. Soon after came the lingering touches before Jill came home. She made a point of giving me a welcome home hug, usually with her arms around my neck and her half naked body available to my hands. Nuzzling close over my shoulder, she would check out what I was reading or working on in the shop, looking wide eyed into mine and listening attentively. For a while, I ate up her attention and enjoyed the sexual rush I felt around her. Then one day, I knew that none of this was for my benefit; she walked into the house from the pool with nothing but a towel around her waist and sat down next to me on the couch. Acting as if she were clothed, she then asked my opinion about colleges and how much she would miss both of us if she went away and would it be all right if she started college in town. I asked her about her track scholarship and she said that wasn't as important as her mom and I. She looked back and forth from my eyes to my lips at least three times and wasn't retreating. I saw behind the sensual offer the craft of a young drama minor who was about to snare her prey. "I hope you'll stay, but I know you'll do what's best for you" is what I said and left the room. I was in danger and knew it now. Confronting her seemed far too risky – I couldn't imagine it going well. Jill was no match for her daughter and wouldn't be much help, either. The idea came from a stranger. A couple days after the couch incident, I was coming out of a store – intentionally coming home later – when Jessica came bouncing out of her car wearing a knitted crop top that you could see right through and her running shorts, ran over to me throwing her arms around my neck and asking if I wanted to go running with her. I said no, maybe tomorrow. She pouted, kissed my cheek, and said "Tomorrow it is." A guy I'd never met and wouldn't normally want to meet came over and said, "Is that hot little thing yours?" "She's my girlfriend's daughter." "Looks like you're doing her too," he said as a statement and not a question. "Lucky you." "No, that would be a big mistake on my part. She's not as innocent as she looks." "I don't care how good the Mother is, I'd fuck the daughter if I had the chance." "Yeah, well, I'm doing it differently" and I got in my car and drove home. But I kept thinking of his last statement. When she came in from running that day she was drying her face with her removed top, walked right up to me and said, "Tomorrow I'll take you on my favorite running course. The Johnson's are gone, but they said I could run across their land by the lake." A plan was forming in my head. True to her word, she was waiting at home for me the next afternoon to go running together. She wore a thin white sleeveless tee shirt that was at least two sizes too small and her running shorts. I changed into running clothes and began my research. We live in a semi-rural area of small hills and wooded clumps. Very few houses are next to each other. The Johnsons, our closest neighbors, live in a small forest on forty-five acres with a small lake on one border of the property. Jessica led us down our road and past several neighbors for nearly a mile before starting to circle back. Her pace was moderately fast and it was all I could do to keep up with the tight little butt in front of me. She short cut along a couple of tree lined fences and entered the Johnson's driveway. We cut away from the house on a trail down to the lake at a near sprint. When we arrived at the lake she abruptly turned around and exclaimed, "Isn't this fun! It's so much more fun running with you." "Why did we stop?" She starred back at me breathing very deeply with her mouth wide open, sweat glistening on her skin and her shirt clinging tightly. "Because it's time for a swim!" Within seconds she had popped off her shoes and thrown her shirt and shorts on the bank and was splashing nude in the water. "Oooh, this feels so good. Come in!" I stood dumbfounded on the bank. Jessica was rubbing the cool water on her bare chest and neck. Then she threw her arms behind her in the water and arched her back, making an offering of her breasts. "Come on! It feels so heavenly. I bet I can swim under water longer than you." I could see it; bumping into each other underwater and surfacing with her slippery skin wrapped around me. It would be more than I could take. My erection would leap into her. I knew my limits and they were approaching fast. "I think I'll just stick to the running. Besides, the neighbors on the other side of the lake might be able to see us." "Who cares!" She turned around and jumped up out of the water. "Anybody watching? Come join us." Jesus Christ, I was getting set up without doing anything. "I'm going to continue the run before my muscles tighten." "Keep stretching. Oh all right, let's go." She bounded out of the water glistening like she was covered with oil. She put her shorts and shirt back on, patting down her breasts and the flimsy tee molded over them and then practically disappeared. With her shoes in place she walked up to me and said, "You missed something fun," turned around and started running. I avoided her when we got home, but a plan had been born. I was checking out her favorite running route carefully. The next day I examined the access areas from nearby roads. Then came the difficult part; it took me four days to find him, the man at the market that drooled for her. I had remembered the look of his old pick-up and found it by an apartment complex about three miles away. I told my story and he listened without comment. His eyes, full of distrust, began to be balanced with lust. "You want me to rough up your little whore? Are you going to break me out of jail too?" "If you do it like I say, no one will see – it's a very private area, even where you park. With the mask on, she'll have no idea who you are. If you get caught, so do I. If I didn't think it was safe, I wouldn't risk it." "She's gonna get hurt, and bad. Is that what you want?" "Just don't kill her or cause permanent injuries. If you restrain that much and don't mark up her face, people will forget soon enough. Except for her, of course. I don't want her to ever forget this lesson. Fuck her hard and work her over until she thinks you are going to kill her. Hurt her so bad that she can't fight back anymore. Make sure it's a very slow painful limp home when you're done. Are you gonna tell me that this doesn't appeal to you? "If anything goes wrong, you're coming down too." "Just do it exactly like I told you…and enjoy yourself for a good cause. I only wish that I could be there to share a piece of her." "I'll punch her in the stomach once for you." It had been five days since my conversation with the man that was to do her. I told him that he safely had a week and a half and should avoid the weekend. One day she drove somewhere else to run with a group. Every day she took off from the house in her teaser outfit of the moment I would sweat until she returned, though I noticed that she was varying her route. One day I was sure that she had turned in to the Johnson's, but nothing happened. She was always gone at least forty-five minutes and sometimes over an hour. I got working on a fence repair to keep from going crazy. After a half hour, I would start to wonder, "Was this the day? Did he have his hands on her now?" The thought came to me that his first attack could fail and she would break free and surely out run him. After an hour, I kept looking for her to come sprinting down the street towards home. When it reached an hour and a half, everything shifted. Sure, she could have stopped by the pond or ran into a friend, but like the beginning of a storm wind, I knew something else was happening. He had gotten her. A very scary man was on top of sexy Jessica and making her hurt. I began to worry that he might not be able to resist putting his hands around her neck and squeezing tight for a long time. At two hours, there could be no doubt – he had her. I was working like a madman using up the adrenaline pouring through me. This could all backfire in so many ways. Another half hour. How long until I should go and look for her? What would I find? Her mother would be home in an hour or so. Should I wait until then? What would seem more normal – to wait or go searching? What if he was still at her? The last thing I wanted was to have to engage him. What if he had knocked her out and taken her away in the trunk to use her as long as he wanted? If that was the case, I knew we'd never see her again alive. It was almost three hours when I heard my name being screamed. Our next door neighbor, Millie, was moving as fast as her seventy-six year old legs would allow her, yelling my name. She was almost upon me. "It's Jessica! She's been hurt!" I looked quickly up the street the hundred yards or so to her house. There she was, staggering up the street. I ran past Millie who was breathing so hard she couldn't speak anymore. It had happened. Jessica was clinging to one of Millie's old afgan blankets and holding the other hand over her crotch. She looked awful. Her long brown hair was loose and ratted and her face so distorted with misery that she looked like someone else. She collapsed as I approached and I caught her and held her up. Her breath was a constant shallow sob. I picked her up and started back for the house. The afgan slipped off of her naked body and I saw the mess. One side of her was bloodied and seemed to come from a breast. Her belly was bruised and the inside of her thigh was purple. She stunk of cum. I looked back at her face; her lower lip was cut and dirt was smeared all over her tears, but he probably hadn't done more here than slap her a couple of times. The rest of her body looked pummeled. "I'll call an ambulance!" No, I've got to give as much time as possible for the escape, I thought. "Better I take her right to the hospital myself," I said. "I'll call the police then." "They'll need to see her first, so I'll call them right away from the emergency room." "Can you wait here for Jill?" I laid Jessica in the backseat and covered her; she rolled up into a ball and shivered. "I'm taking you to the hospital, Jessica. You're safe now." I put my sweaty palms on the wheel and drove fast, but not too fast. I didn't know what to say to her. I wanted to be comforting and appropriately shocked, but I didn't want to ask her questions yet. God, she looked beat up. Oddly, considering that I had set her up, I felt bad for her. My biggest emotion though was worry, for myself. No, scared to death was more like it. I had to keep calm while looking disturbed and hope that the perpetrator didn't do anything stupid. Then there was the luck factor. As soon as I carried her through the doors of the emergency room, most everything was out of my hands. Jessica wanted me near and I stood holding her hand while the nurse and doctor examined her and started the clean-up. The police arrived in minutes and called me out. I told them that she had gone out running about three hours earlier and then came limping in to our neighbors – what could have happened? The female deputy questioned her and the story started to appear. Jessica spoke through sobs, "I was running by the lake and these guys jumped me…they slugged me and held me down…" "How many were there?" "Four." "Can you describe any of them?" "They had nylons on their heads…I don't know. I think one had a beard. She started to cry uncontrolably." The male deputy turned to me. "Do you know where she's talking about?" "I know the lake and where she runs sometimes – I've gone with her before…I wish I would have gone with her this time." "If there were four of them, your presence may have only increased the injuries. Will you take us to the spot now? The earlier we pick up clues, the faster we can apprehend them." "Sure." They took me in the squad car and I directed them to the side opposite from where he, or they would have parked their car. Four of them. The number sank deeper and deeper into my chest. No wonder she looked so awful. My main thought though was that the chances of no one getting caught just went up by a factor of four. At least they had worn masks. I took them into the Johnson's driveway and then started walking towards one end, explaining the route she might have taken. In the trail, just before the lake, there were a mess of footprints and then nothing. We fanned out and soon the female officer was calling us over. She had found blood and her sliced up shorts. Laying close by were her top and underpants, both shredded. Only her shoes were missing. I looked down at the blood on a root gnarl and the scrapes in the forest duff. The search continued. They found footprints leading a quarter mile to the hidden spot where I had told him to park. They checked the Johnson house, even though I told them they were on vacation. The sheriff had arrived and was filled in. The female deputy took me back to the hospital and would ask Jessica more questions. The sheriff and deputy would ask neighbors if they had seen or heard anything. Jill was at the hospital now and her face was contorted in misery and fear. I held her until she calmed down while the deputy sought details from her daughter. I began to piece together the rape. Two men had jumped her and forced her arms up behind her back. Her attempt at a scream had been hammered shut by a third man who drove several hard punches up under her ribs. She lost consciousness and woke up on her back with her clothes being yanked and cut loose. One man sat with his knees digging into her forearms while two more forced her legs open. One man left to take his pleasure on the helpless tanned body splayed out before him. Did the man he had contacted take the first penetration or did he want the foreplay of watching his accomplices work on her first? Had they all had their own preference for roughness? Someone had beat her inner thighs with his fists until her muscles had given way and even ligaments damaged; it had been an excruciating mile walk home. One of her shoulders had been dislocated. Her neck was bruised from strangling. She said that one man kept punching her belly the whole time he raped her. An opened gouge in her back where they pinned her on the exposed root must have caused her to arch her back from the pain. In so doing, her breasts must have been thrust up and driven one of them wild; he had bitten into one nipple causing a lot of blood and six stitches were required to close the wound. It was hard to tell how many times and places she had been slapped. At one point, they had flipped her over and raised welts with a belt all over her bare butt. I was amazed that they hadn't killed her. Maybe the strangler was intending her death when the other guys pulled him off, somehow believing that they'd have a better chance with her alive. The sheriff said they had plenty to go on and would find them soon. The skin particles left on one of their belts would be enough evidence right there. There would be blood on clothes, too. Jill sank into my arms as we sat near the beat up girl. "Who would do this?" Jill sobbed. "I don't know, but they'll find them." They kept her overnight to make sure that she didn't have serious abdominal injuries. Jill stayed the night and all the next day with her until I came home from work and brought both of them home. The doctor didn't want her to walk for a few days so we had to rent a wheel chair. Her right arm was in a sling to keep her shoulder steady. Bandages were everywhere with varying instruction for changing and dressing each one. Jill was at Jessica's side constantly, rubbing her cheek and asking if there was any way she could help. At one point Jessica snapped and yelled at her mother. Like normal, Jill backed off and started to apologize, but then Jessica's rage sputtered into sobs and her left arm reached out for her mom to hold her. It was the last time she screamed at either one of us. One Time Only On the slow train up to the mountain town, Helen had the usual stirrings of anxiety and expectation. Almost the same curiosity and hope she might have felt as a theatre curtain rose, but with added uncertainties. She had made many journeys to unknown places, but she knew this place, loved its languid stillness, the majesty of the peaks, some of which rose like pointed phalluses. These images heightened the vague cravings inside her that she never could quite identify. Someday her travels might resolve that.. Had she been challenged about what she was seeking, she might have compromised by saying 'peace and tranquillity'. More honestly, to her close friend, Janice, her response was, "The perfect man." Janice had scolded her, "They don't exist. God, you must know by now. Men will always disappoint you." Helen had to admit that, at thirty six years old, her six encounters had been somewhat unfulfilling. Painfully deflowered at sixteen by the irksome Pete Bradley, followed, when she was eighteen, by Charlie Flynn, who was all wham-bam, with very little thanks. Three years later Jeffrey Tunney had come into her life, ten years her senior, and already a successful property developer when they married. Eleven years of relatively comfortable marriage followed. Jeffrey was always gentle and considerate in bed, if never lifting her to any of the heights that books and hearsay suggested were her right. Over the years, business became his total obsession, and she received less and less attention. A sudden heart attack took him from her and left her saddened, but with a comfortable inheritance to sustain her for the rest of her life. The three men since that time were best forgotten. Conrad Bascombe, she quickly labelled Conrad Fastcum'. Sometimes it happened before he'd even entered her, splashing his cream into her thick tawny bush, or sending it shooting in long white strands across her belly. Next came Jason, who turned out to be bisexual, with little real interest in physical contact. Finally, just over a year ago, there had been Archie, who was only interested in her giving him oral gratification, which was a privilege she would have preferred to bestow from feelings she had, not as a sign of male superiority. "You certainly know how to pick them," Janice had affirmed. "Stop seeking that someone special." Although admitting the partial truth in what her friend said, Helen held on to the belief that somewhere there was that 'someone'. Someone who would elevate her, make her feel exalted and fulfilled. Every time a door opened, every party she attended, every time she entered a cafe or theatre. That could have been the moment they met. Several men were in her carriage as the train trailed upwards. Some were with family, one or two just looked dull, a few were too portly, or too elderly. None triggered the fervour she knew she would feel when it was 'the someone'. She had vowed there would be no more of the desperate clutching at straws she had indulged in since Jeffrey's passing. Even if that meant a sense of despondency at the end of each venture. Coming out of the station into the Spring sunlight that was melting the snow from the mountains, Helen took a taxi to the small hotel where she had stayed before. A two storey, glass fronted building, with friendly staff, excellent food, and a foyer and upper landing that gave a panoramic view of green hills sweeping up to towering snow capped peaks. After unpacking and changing into blouse and slacks with a jersey over her shoulder, she set out for an afternoon walk. Taking the lower trails, she relished the caressing of the clear air, the aroma of pine, the sheer freedom and silence, after the raucous life of cities. After an hour and a half she returned to her room, showered, and changed into a simple dress, which she knew, accentuated her figure. Refreshed, and taking her book with her, she went to sit in the foyer to await the evening meal. Sitting in that cosy atmosphere she didn't bother with the book. There were enough people passing to hold her interest. Families, a couple hand in hand, two youthful men who might have been straight out of university, nothing to excite her. After about twenty minutes she noticed the tall figure standing with his back to her, apparently absorbed in the classic view. Even as she watched he turned and their eyes locked for the briefest of moments, yet time enough for her to absorb the intensity of flinty eyes, bold and authoritative As heat suffused her skin, and he moved away, he gave her an easy, innocent smile, that aroused feelings she could not clarify. Made uneasy, she looked away. After a moment she allowed herself to look across the foyer. He was standing at the foot of the staircase, near where a small piano stood. He was in close conversation with a smart young woman, who wore a peach blouse, with a beige skirt. Helen felt an unexpected aggravation. Her meal over, she passed through the bar lounge of the hotel and was surprised to see the young woman being given the avid attention of the two young university types. Why should that give her a sense of satisfaction? The next morning she was coming back down from a pleasant walk when the tall man appeared, walking up the trail alone, heading for the peak behind the hotel. He walked briskly, giving her a gentle smile and a firm, "Good morning", as he passed. He had taken off his shirt to catch more of the sun on an already golden torso that had the magnificence of a toned athlete. There was a youthful lightness in his face but his hair was greying at the temples. But it was the eyes again that bored into her, a penetration that churned something inside her. She could have been almost angered by the boldness of his glance, but the easiness of his smile dissolved any antipathy she may have felt. How old would he be? Early forties, she guessed. Could this be her time? Fearing disappointment, she forcefully pushed him out of her mind. After a light lunch she decided to lie down for a short rest, and was surprised when she woke up over an hour later. Believing that she would be doing no more walking, she showered, and donned a light flowered dress. Coming out of her room, feeling rather lethargic, she heard the piano being played in the foyer. That was unusual. She had never heard it played, but recognised the theme from 'The Godfather' but given a slight Latin beat. The music lifted her mood and she felt an urge to dance. Stopping on the upper landing, and admiring the stunning view, she found herself being wound up like a music box lady. No one was watching, so she swayed and whirled, not stopping even when the playing stopped suddenly. "Ah, there are real people in this hotel." The deep brown voice startled her, and was followed by a warm laugh. She whirled round, her face blazing warm, to see the tall stranger two steps down, leaning lightly against the banister. "Don't let me stop your performance," he went on. He was dressed informally in shirt and trousers, and his eyes drilled into her, increasing her uncertainty. It was like being eyed by a hungry tiger. "The piano has stopped," she said flatly. "I was fascinated seeing your feet twirling from down there. So I left it to see who could be so rhythmic." "It was you playing?" He shrugged modestly and said, "This place is dead. Would you care to walk?" Still uncertain about the suddenness of this chance, she gestured at her dress, "I'm not ---" "You look fine. We'll stick to the lower paths. And the sun is shining a welcome to you." The flint eyes regarded her quizzically as he added with a gentle smile, "I'm harmless." Helen wasn't sure, given the pounding rising inside her, that she wanted him to be harmless. The trembling excitement she was feeling deep inside told her that she could be on the verge of what she had been craving. She followed him down the stairs, and felt herself kissed by the rays of the sun, yet soothed by that a gentle mountain breeze. "You always turn back early from your walks," he observed casually. "Perhaps you should be more audacious, and take time to adore your surroundings." "I do adore nature, and travel," she replied without rancour. "Is it your work?" "Nothing fixed. I write occasional articles for a magazine." "Another writer. How boring." And he laughed. His eyes remained on her the whole time they talked. A core burned inside her like the heart of a volcano. "You write-----fiction?" "No, mostly natural stuff---oceans, rivers, grasslands. But right now I'm doing a book on mountains. I've just come from the Rockies---now the Alps" "Mountains fascinate you?" "Mountains are forever. Grasslands can be built on or cultivated---changed anyway. Rivers can be dammed or diverted. Only the sea rivals the longevity of the mountains." "Mountains can be climbed." His grey tinted head shook, "Headlines tell you that so-and-so conquered Everest. There was no conquest. The mountain permitted him access. The mountain removed obstructions. Good climbers watch for its signs---the dropping of the mists, the lowering of the winds." His eyes regarded her more deeply, "Like the way a man will watch a woman for such signs---the dropping of a robe, the heaviness of a sigh---" "I've always thought of mountains as masculine," Helen said, and surprising herself at her bravado, she indicated two of the narrower phallic peaks, capped suggestively with snow. "White haired old men," he said, but she could see the twinkle in his eyes, that told her he knew very well the allusion she was making. They had stopped walking, and faced each other. Helen was sure that this man, with his probing eyes could read the very troubled thoughts that were invading her. She stood rooted to the spot, a playful breeze flicked through her hair, and lifted her skirt as though she wore fifty petticoats underneath. What was she expecting from this encounter? What did she want? The turmoil inside her was her strongest hint. She felt his strength could keep her rooted there for eternity. Yet they walked on for an hour and a half, during which she discovered that the young lady in the peach blouse was his secretary. "Bit of a fun girl, but efficient." Eventually they flopped down side by side on a grassy knoll. His closeness did not bother her in the way she might have expected. Their eyes locked, and he smiled again, "You know what you are?" he asked. Why was her breath quickening? "What am I?" He moved imperceptibly closer," You're the woman who is never there. The most haunting women are those who can't be found in a crowded café, who are lost in a party crowd. Never there--needing to be hunted out." "Have you been hunting?" Did he see her as haunting? How could his thoughts be so close to her own. "No---I don't hunt----I wait---knowing, hoping she will appear." "I think I understand the feeling," she said quietly. And did. He sat up and looked at his watch, "Dinner is going to be over by the time we get back" They started walking. Neither spoke for a while. Helen was locked in a myriad of conflicting emotions, promoted by physical sensations. Heated skin, stirrings in her lower abdomen demanded frequent glances at the tall, athletic man striding beside her. Halfway back, he asked quietly, "When we get back would you have dinner with me in my room?" Helen did not answer. Just walked on, heart thudding. The smile on her face would tell him. Back in the hotel foyer, she watched as he strode to the reception desk, and gave his order. His decisive actions in small acts made her wonder would he be so determined with his greater desires. She watched his every movement. A feeling of exaltation was rising inside her, heading to a pinnacle that could barely express her needs. Could she abandon herself to a stranger? She didn't even know his name. When he returned to tell her that the meal would be delivered to his room in about forty five minutes, his eyes on her were like a penetration. On the way up the stairs she was trembling. Should this be happening? A first meeting and into bed? That only happened in fiction, didn't it? Everything about this encounter had been disturbing, unreal, yet exhilarating. Inside his room with its ornately carved bed, she moved towards the balcony. The view from here was breathtaking. Few foothills, only towering peaks that loomed in towards them. He followed her and she expected him to become possessive. What happened surprised her. This man whose air of authority had so attracted her, suddenly seemed unsure, almost uneasy. He gave her his disarming smile, but there was a tinge of nervousness in his eyes as he said, "I must tell you that this is not my normal way. Meet and straight to the bedroom." She needed him to know, "It's not my experience either." He went on, his voice low, his words enthralling her, "No woman has so imbedded herself in my psyche. A woman I could love. I have something you must know." Helen felt that a ball of lead was ready to fall inside her. What was he about to tell her? Was there a wife? Was this why he seemed so uncertain? They were standing so close she had the sense of sparks transferring between them. He bit his lip before saying, "I move on tomorrow. The Pyrenees. And then it's the Andes next week. I feel guilty about this. I've almost forced you here. I need to know that you still want to be here." Mixed emotions were quickly replaced by a sense of being immensely moved by his honesty, his resulting timidity, and his tenderness. She was completely engulfed by his manner. And it came to that moment when it was she who moved into him and offered her mouth. When he kissed her, his lips were warm. She felt his teeth, then quickly, his tongue. His hands were on her breasts and the tumult started within her, intense, full of wanton desire. His kisses moved to her neck and down her throat, where her blood pumped wildly. She swayed with the need to be taken, invaded, penetrated. As they kissed and tongues entwined, he undressed her. Clothes fell at her feet while her spirits soared above her. Still kissing her neck, her hair, her throat he lifted her easily, and carried her to the bed. His touch was indefinable, sometimes light and melting, other times fierce, the caress of a wild animal. His hands spread possessively over each part of her body; breasts, belly, labia and buttocks. Lying there, her eyes closed, it seemed like he had twenty hands, stroking, adoring, fingers exploring her every part. And many mouths that travelled everywhere, nibbling, sucking, licking. His teeth, wolflike, seemed to sink into her fleshier parts. She wanted it. Wanted to be devoured. Her body trembled as she found that, somehow, he was naked and his erect penis pressed against her thigh. As she began to reach for it he moved completely over her, on top of her, welded together from mouth to toe. Shivers ran through her body. He whispered lovely ideas into her ear as he raised her legs and entered her. Her whole body was a secret passage and this enormous, immense, hot intruder was so welcome. Rolling, he had them lying side by side, huge inside her, but very still. Not moving. Simply savouring their intimacy. Enjoying this joining of their bodies, Helen had a sudden impulse, a devilish extension of it being her special time, her time for choices, for commitments, and she drew back so that his penis slipped from her. Sitting up she looked down, hair over her face, eyes misted with passion. He lay on his back. She moved down until her lips touched his erect moist penis, catching the aroma of herself. Kissing all around it made him gasp, and his penis flickered. Sitting back she saw his eyes open and look at her, a different look, a pleading look and she felt his hand on the back of her head, pressing. Obediently, yet eagerly she lowered her mouth to engulf his penis, her tongue agitated over it, tasting her own juices. As she slid her mouth up and down, occasionally raking with her teeth, he grunted, and a faint salty taste overlaid her own tartness. She raised her head, and looked down at him. "Over?" she asked. A weak smile crossed his lips as he shook his head, " Just a prelude." Given the demands flaring inside her, the volcano she'd felt earlier demanding to erupt, she could not believe how they could now lie, just touching, feeling each other with a tenderness that belied the intensity that raged inside both of them. She touched him everywhere. He was all muscle and erectile tissue. She raised her body to rub against him, lifting her pubes to his mouth, allowing his tongue to probe her most sensitive parts only briefly, knowing it could drive her way over the edge. As she moved back, his mouth suckled and licked at her breast, teeth threatening to consume, yet delighting her. His fingers plunged deep into the honey that seemed to be oozing from her vagina, which she felt was opening like a mouth desperate for food. Then his penis was there, and she was desperate for it, hungry to claim its fire. He moved her so that she lay on him, her legs straddling his, and as he entered her she knew that this way he could see himself disappearing inside her. For herself, she could look away from his face and see the action she had craved, his entrance into her so willing body. Their bodies undulated together seeking the ultimate. Helen felt him filling her but she did not quicken her movements. Another change and she was lying on her back, her legs spread and raised. Now he was able to plunge more deeply into her, with greater force, reaching her very womb, she was sure. Her head shook from side to side at the friction of his massive penis, a tree trunk of an implement scouring the walls of her vagina. So intense was the feeling that she felt that her very womb was throwing out tiny hands to savour him, to draw him further, and her whole body was latched into the frantic motion. This was what she had craved for so long. This intensity, this fire. With each stroke of his penis she was finding new layers of extreme pleasure to which she was happy to respond. It had never happened this way. Their mouths meshed together, tongues absorbing the pleasures that were emanating from below, and moving in a similar rhythm. Helen's body, her very soul, now clamoured for the ultimate. She moved quicker, demanding a climax, and he recognised this and his tempo increased. The climax was spreading between them, between their mouths and their sexual fusion. Helen would never be able to explain that moment as the movements launched them away somewhere beyond sensibility, yet the fires were intensely locked inside them, spreading, flaring, searching every nerve end, until the pleasure had her crying out in what was half sob, half laughter. They lay for some time, licking at each others perspiration, chuckling, touching like innocent children. After the meal, they did it all again and again, confident, like they had been together for years. And she knew she had found her 'someone.' The next day she saw him with his suitcase. Despair rocked her newly found heart. Their eyes met and he came to her, apologetically. Then he handed her his card, " My flat is in Paris. But I'm hardly ever there." Without looking at the card she hastily found paper and pen at the desk and scribbled her name, address and telephone number. She handed it to him. He looked, "Helen." he said, and his smile bathed her. She glanced at the card for the first time, " Christopher," she whispered. "I like the way you say that." She saw him stop at the taxi door, fold her piece of paper and place it carefully in his wallet. He placed his wallet back in his inside pocket near to his heart, looked up at her as he tapped the spot. Then he was gone. One Time Only She stood for a long time watching the road that had carried his taxi away. They had to meet again. Had to. One Time Only In a sense, it was an attempt to reassure her. We had met through an online dating website. I was into her from the first time we met. She was petite, with curling dark brown hair, a white complexion, and full breasts which her black blouse set off perfectly. It was after our third date that she came back to my place, and we made delicious love together. Afterwards we talked, and she told me that her last relationship had broken up because her guy had started seeing someone else behind her back. Because of that, she was not sure that she could trust another guy very easily. While we were talking, her head was on my shoulder, her full breasts on my chest, and her hand was slowly stroking my cock, making it hard again. I reassured her that I had never cheated on any woman I had been involved with, totally true, and that she was all the woman that I wanted. To make the point even more strongly I added that I would still want her, even if she slept with someone else. It was not something that I had planned to say, or had thought through. It was instinctive, and it was more about making her realise how much I wanted her than about being turned on by her being with another guy. But it became something that I repeated, and she started saying that she might take me up on my offer. Just talking about it proved to be a serious turn on, making me hard, and if she said anything about it while we were making love, it would make her fuck her even harder, which she enjoyed. A couple of months into our relationship, she mentioned a guy called Paul. He was a former colleague, from a previous job that she had had. They kept in touch, meeting up occasionally as friends. What she said, while we were in bed together, was that if she decided to sleep with anyone else, she would want it to be him. Again, she was stroking my cock while she was saying this, and it hardened even more. I moved between her legs, sliding into her easily, her pussy already wet, and started fucking her, telling her the one condition I was placing on her was that she told me everything afterwards. She promised that she would, and we made beautiful love, a pact having been agreed between us. It was another few weeks before anything happened. We were in the kitchen, making breakfast on a Saturday morning, when she told me that she had arranged to meet Paul for lunch. She planned to tell him that I had agreed to let him make love with her, and would go back to his place if he wanted to take her up on it. My stomach churned when she told me. Fantasising about it had been one thing. Hearing her tell me that she was going to meet him that day was something else entirely. But a pact had been made, and I drew her to me, saying that it was fine. My cock hardened. We kissed, and within minutes we were back upstairs in bed, and I was fucking her and coming inside her. After a break, I was hard again, and inside her again. By the time that we had finished, it was too late for her to meet for lunch, and she was using her mobile to apologise to him, and rearrange for the next day instead. The knowledge of what was going to happen kept me hard that night, and we made love twice before we slept, and again on waking. This time, after coffee, she dressed, wearing a red trimmed bra, panties and suspenders set that I had bought her, with black stockings under her dress. We agreed that she would text me to let me know what was going on, and three hours later, I got her text, saying that she was in his flat. I replied, my stomach churning again, but saying that she shoud enjoy him, and then spent the next three hours or so, waiting for her to come back, and knowing that while I was waiting, a guy I had never met was fucking her. It was incredible when she walked in, and back in the kitchen she began to tell me what had happened. They had met for lunch in a London art gallery, looking at the paintings after they had eaten. One had been of a reclining nude, and Paul had joked that he would like to see her like that some time. She had been nervous of bringing up the pact that we had made, but took the opportunity to say that if he really wanted to, then she would go back to his place with him. He took a moment to check that she was serious. Then he took her hand, led her from the gallery, and brought her to his flat. Inside the door, they kissed, and his hands explored her body through her clothes, unzipping her dress, and sliding it from her while they were still in his hallway. He then led her by the hand into his living room, the dress discarded in the hallway, and took her in his arms again. Her bra was next to be removed, and he fondled her breasts, enjoying their fullness. Then he slid down her panties, removing them as he moved her to the leather sofa. He knelt, and moved his mead between her legs. It was a previous partner, she had told me, who had paid for the laser treatment she had had, to reduce a thick copse of pubic hair to a neat triangle above her slit that she kept trimmed. Paul used his tongue to explore her slit, expertly licking her to her first orgasm in his flat, before excusing himself to go through to his bedroom, leaving her naked other than her stockings and suspenders. When he came back, he was naked, and had a condom, which he rolled onto his erect cock. He turned her sideways on the sofa, moved over her, and entered her. I did not ask her if his cock was larger or smaller than mine. Just hearing her describe his fucking her was incredible. She had orgasmed again while he was fucking her, and he had then come inside her. After they had rested together, Paul had withdrawn. He had removed the condom, and they had both gone through to his bedroom. She had used his bathroom to freshen up while he had lain on his bed, and then she had joined him there, and they had held each other. She admitted that she had deliberately stroked him back to a hard erection, and then climbed on top of him, reaching round to angle his cock towards her slit from behind, and then moving back onto it. I checked with her, whether he had worn a condom that time, and she said that he had not. It had just happened so naturally, and he was inside her without her even thinking about it. This time it had taken longer, but she had enjoyed another orgasm, and eventually he had come again, still inside her. That had been enough to hear. We had been holding each other, still standing in the kitchen, my cock hard, but hearing her describe Paul fucking her bare, and coming inside her, I brought her up to the bedroom, we both undressed, and within seconds I was inside her. It was delicious. Her pussy was beautifully wet and ready to be fucked again. As we made love, she said that she could not believe that I was reacting the way I was, and that I seemed so turned on by what she had done. I told her that I was seriously impressed that she had gone through with it, and that it did turn me on that another guy had been fucking her only hours before. I loved that she was the sexual woman that she was, able to enjoy two men on one day. I also was using my body to reclaim her. I had both of her legs bent to her chest, my shoulders pressing on her calves, my arms wrapped around her, and was fucking her as deeply as I could go. I still was disinterested in the size of Paul's cock. That did not matter. What mattered was that now it was me who was fucking her, making her whimper and making her come. As I fucked her, I whispered in her ear, that she should remember that her pussy belonged to me. I had allowed her to let another guy fuck her, but it had been my decision, and she still belonged to me. In response, I received kisses on my neck and cheeks, and her confirmation that her pussy was mine for as long as I wanted it. It happened only once. We still talk about it, and get off on it. Does that make me a cuckold. I do not know the answer to that, and I do not care. She is good to be with, and delicious to fuck, and her pussy is very definitely mine. One Time Only Jill took a week off of work to stay with her daughter. Leaving her alone was out of the question. I called Jill during every break to make sure they were all right. Jill was spooked about being home without me and I was secretly afraid that one or all of the gang that got Jessica would return. Even if it was only one of them, Jill has no fight in her; she would beg for the attacker to take her and leave her daughter alone. And they would, for awhile. Jill would perform for them, filling her tiny stomach with their cum. It wouldn't stop there though. After seeing what they did to Jessica, I was sure they would beat both of them terribly. I loaded my grandfather's revolver and kept it in the nightstand. I didn't tell Jill about the gun. I knew she wouldn't be able to use it well enough and it would only provoke them to hurt her worse. Jessica was noticeably more relaxed with me around, too and asked if I could take the following week off. Soon I was performing all of the nursing duties from changing her bandages to helping her bathe and go to the bathroom. By the third week, she was walking and fending for herself fairly well, but was terrified to be alone. She was able to go with Jill to her job and I would pick her up when I got off from work. We spent most of the evenings watching movies with Jessica snuggled in between us. Twice, she woke up with nightmares and crawled in bed next to her mom. One morning, after Jill got up to pee, Jessica ended up between us and we both wrapped around her. I at first held back, being naked, but she pulled us both close. My erection against her thigh was never mentioned. Jill was a pleaser from our first date, but after the first six months, sex had slipped to two or three times a week. A few days after Jessica's rape though, Jill was coming on to me twice a day, dropping to her knees and sucking me down her throat unless I pulled out to enter her somewhere else. Behind her seductions, I could see her terror at being alone and she was doing what was in her power to keep me. I began to get creative, having Jill strip while I video taped her. Late one night, Jessica walked in our room to find her mom tied spread eagle on the bed with me shoving my cock between her glistening with oil breasts. I didn't jump up. I let her stare. "What is it honey?" Jill asked. "I'll talk to you tomorrow," Jessica responded and left the room. Without comment I brought my cock to Jill's lips and she swallowed me again. Jessica apologized to Jill the next morning, the first time either of us could remember hearing her say that she was sorry for something. Jessica started knocking. Having seen Jessica naked repeatedly while bandaging and caring for her gave us a casual intimacy. So many female and male nurses and doctors saw her naked in the first two weeks that I guess it lost its shock value for her. Yet it wasn't like the tease show that went on for those few months before the rape; she wasn't thrusting her breasts forward and stretching out her limbs. Instead, she hunched and sat curled with her legs underneath. She cuddled against her mom and I constantly, but this too was different. Before, where her favorite embrace was around my neck or at my side with one arm over my shoulder, now she walked into my arms and I would envelope her. At least half of the time her own arms would be between us, holding her belly or protecting her bitten nipple. She would stay there for minutes while I rubbed her back or stroked her hair. About three months after the assault Jessica asked me, "Do you think those men were about to break into the Johnson's house like the police think and I surprised them or do you think they were stalking me?" "I don't know, sweetheart." "I think they were after me." She started to cry. "And I think they're watching for the next time I'm alone." I held for a long time while she sobbed. My penis went stiff, like it usually did with her body close to mine and I was careful not to press my crotch against her. "All the neighbors will report any unknown people hanging out in the area. If they were hanging around here, someone would have seen." She looked up at me through wet eyes and her mouth trembled. She said, "I'm so scared." "I know. But your mom and I love you dearly and we're going to keep you safe." I had spoken this way as an act for the six weeks since her assault, but when it came out this time, I knew it had become true. "I'm so sorry for the way I treated you," she said. "You're nicer to my mom than anyone else ever was…and you're good to me too. Not even my father ever cared for me. I didn't think I could trust you either, but I know I can now." I kissed her forehead and she slid her arms around my back and squeezed me. I was very erect now and she must have felt me against her soft groin. She stayed against me for a long time. As I held her, I knew that this was what I wanted from her. Four months later, I was afraid that I might lose it all. He approached me by my car in a large parking lot, the lead guy with the old pick-up. "So how's the little whore?" "This isn't safe to be seen together," I said quietly, though I felt shocked. "No one's around. Just act like it's a casual conversation." "Who were the other guys? That was taking a huge chance." "Friends of mine. They followed orders, didn't they? I thought we did a rather thorough job. A real work, your girlfriend's daughter. Of course, her mother ain't bad either." "Have the police come to you in any way?" "Of course not. Relax man." "She's mostly recovered. You beat her up pretty bad. Now she's afraid to go out." "Maybe she needs a home visit." I didn't say anything, but I felt sick to my stomach. He looked pleased. "A little continuing education." "Are you crazy! Neighbors will see. We're lucky that none of the four of you have blown it yet." "We could sneak over in the afternoon, knock you on the head enough to keep you in the clear and tie you up. We'll wear our costumes again and hide our faces." "No! Once was enough. Things are better now between us." "Then let's keep it rolling." I looked around, but no one was paying any attention. I was sweating terribly. His dropped his tone and spoke softer. "Or maybe you'd prefer to step out one evening and we'll service both of them. Her little mother looks like a good fuck too. We don't have to punch her as hard." I was shaking. "Don't you dare touch Jill." "Then wrap up the teen in a cute little outfit and deliver her to us. I don't know if I can hold 'em back much longer. Same rules as before." "No. Not again." "Think you could stop us?" "I'll try." "Suit yourself, but it'll be a whole lot easier if you work with us. Some day she'll want to go out by herself and one of us will find her. If I'm not there over seein' things, a couple of the other boys might not know when to stop." I got in my car and left him standing there. I was petrified. What had I started? How far would they go? It had been almost six months and I had just got Jessica to go out running again, three times with me and once with some old track friends. Jill had been alone in the house for an hour the last time we had returned. I knew he was serious. They would be stalking both of them. For three days, I made sure that neither of them was ever alone, not even the two of them together. They were going to kill one of my girls. I could only think of one thing to do. I waited outside his apartment until he showed. "You win," I said, "but this can't go on and on." "I thought you'd come to your senses." We made the arrangements. Jessica and I had started running in and around the State Park about six miles from our house. One of the trails was rarely used and I had already taken Jessica there and she loved it. I would let her lead, which I usually did. Two of them would jump her and the other two would subdue me and tie me up. Then the four of them would cart her off the trail and do what they pleased. I'd stumble my way out after two hours and start the rescue. It had been a warm day for late March. I drove Jessica to the park and we stretched our legs for the run. She stripped down to her shorts and then pulled off her warm up jacket, wearing only a blue sports bra. She was so beautiful. The bruises were gone from her belly and the running had picked up her spirits. "Are you still going to run in your sweats?" she chided me. "Yeah, I don't heat up like you do." She threw her arms around my neck and I slowly put my hands around her bare waist. I didn't feel like in the early summer though. I could trust her. She slipped back down to the ground and said, "I am so happy that you're in my life." We started running the large trails, passing three people. Soon we were in the interior and climbing. I ran beside her on the wide paths. "Here's our trail," I said. She bounded ahead and I followed. Adrenaline was flooding my veins and I could have easily overtaken her. I could have also turned us back. Up ahead were four men that had already terrorized and tortured this sweet girl. Beyond a doubt, they would hurt her far worse this time. And it wouldn't be the last time either, unless they killed her, which I knew they might. Jessica was still chatting though I couldn't hear or concentrate. I saw a motion in the forest to my side. I let another twenty feet separate us. Jessica rounded a tree and a lowered shoulder rammed into her chest and drove her backwards six feet like a line backer and slammed her into a small fir. She let out a terrible groan that had tried to be a shout. Another man pinned her arms behind the young tree while the first ripped his fist into her stomach. A third man came at me from the side, but I was already pulling out the revolver from the harness under my sweatshirt, leveled it at his chest and fired. I wheeled around as the fourth man stood stunned about six feet away and I blasted a hole in his gut. I charged a few yards down the trail where the two men stood over the slumped body of my girl and tried to reckon with the change of plans. The lead guy made a dive for Jessica, I was sure to use as a shield, and I shot dangerously close to her and got him in the side. The fourth guy dropped her arms as I shot the lead guy and took off running. I sprinted in the hunt. He only had about a fifteen foot lead which I closed in seconds and shot him in the back. He went down and squirmed. I put the gun to his head and pulled. Jessica screamed and I raced back. He had one of her wrists and one ankle and was still trying, I guessed, to somehow pin her and use her as a hostage against me. She kicked him in the face and he lost hold of her. I pointed the gun at his face and walked closer; I only had one bullet left. He looked at Jessica and pointed towards me, blood oozing from his side, "He nnn…he knn." I pulled the trigger and put the last bullet in his head. I saw the second man I shot moving and ran to him. I picked up a rock and crushed his head. The first had a hole in his heart and lay in too much blood to recover. I just held Jessica while she cried hysterically. They had cracked a rib and bruised her gut, but she was otherwise all right. After a half hour, we made our way back out the trail and ran into a ranger and two sheriffs who were pursuing the report of gunfire. They confiscated my gun and wrote me up for carrying a concealed weapon, but the charges were waved. I answered everybody's question many times that I didn't know we were in danger this time, but had been carrying the gun all four runs we had made off the beaten path, just in case. Everyone believed that these four men had been stalking Jessica for months, waiting for the opportunity to get at her again. All except the sergeant , who asked me my story in different ways over and over, I suppose, looking for an incongruity. I kept my cool. No, I didn't know these guys. No, I hadn't seen anyone following us as we drove. I killed them all even though I could have let two of them live without being a harm to us because I was crazy with rage. He sensed something that didn't jive, but if he knew anything, he wasn't showing his card. Maybe a neighbor of the ring leader had thought that she had seen me at his apartment. I didn't know. Three of the guys had priors. One of them had been arrested for the rape of a minor, but she couldn't pick him out in a line-up so they released him. None of them were "model citizens". One guy actually had a wife and child, but neighbors said that they heard him yelling often and suspected that her bruises and "illnesses" weren't the accidents she claimed them to be. If you're going to commit murder, it helps that nobody cares about the victims. Jill and Jessica treated me like a hero. Jill continued rewarding me until I began to feel like I had done something wonderful myself. Jessica recovered fast and didn't have the looming shadow of the unknown assailants hanging over her. The weather warmed and her life returned to normal. Her outfits got skimpy again, but she never sunbathed nude while I was there or walked around the house topless. She snuggled me every day, kissing my cheek and wrapping her arms around me, sometimes putting on her biggest display of affection towards me when a boyfriend was over. None of them stuck though and I'm sure it was always her decision. One afternoon, as she prepared for yet another date, wearing a very short denim skirt and a thin cotton top tied at the bottom of her ribs, I chided her about going for a record of broken hearts this summer. She came to the chair I was sitting in and sat in my lap. "I'm just looking for someone like the boyfriend my mom got. He's handsome and helpful and treats her so well. I told my mom she should share him with me sometime." She blushed and got up. "Just joking…" She started to walk away and then came back and kissed my cheek "…about the last part, I mean. I wouldn't do anything to hurt either of you." "I always wanted a beautiful daughter." "You got one now." The door bell rang and she ran over and opened it wide. Another gangly star struck lad said hello and tried to keep his eyes on her face until she leaned back to call goodbye to me, her arms wide on the door jamb, letting him see the prize he could get if the date was a good one.